Mark of the Fox
by ThePenWieldingRose
Summary: When a new and corrupt duo is placed in charge of Los Angeles, Diego wastes no time donning the disguise of Zorro to make his mark on the walls of the cuartel…however, he never expected the new Alcalde's niece to make her own mark on his heart, nor was he expecting a new mysterious figure to join his crusade. HIATUS
1. A Rude Awakening

**A/N:** I couldn't resist...if it's no good, I'll probably pull it off and call it quits, but let's see what you all think of it first. Please let me know what you think in the reviews - see you next time!

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 ** _Walt Disney's Zorro - Mark of the Fox_**

 _Chapter One:_ A Rude Awakening

The carriage rocked violently over a large rut in the dirt road, causing the final two sleepy passengers within the coach to jerk their heads up, now suddenly alert. Bernardo blinked his eyes repeatedly, shaking his head to clear his mind as he heard his master chuckling.

"Well, that was a wake-up call, eh?" Diego de la Vega grinned at his companion as Bernardo groggily yawned and rubbed the back of his neck. The mute manservant began to gesture lazily with his hands. "Don't worry, we should be home in just a few moments-"

"We are approaching Los Angeles, Senores!" the driver called from his perch.

Diego shrugged merrily at the still drowsy Bernardo, now fully awake as he became aware of their nearing his home. Poking his head out of the window, Diego relished the feel of the sunshine caressing his face before setting his sights on the outskirts of the little town. Having taken on the task of managing some business concerning textiles and livestock in Santa Barbara for his father, Diego had also taken the opportunity to use his alter ego to protect a wealthy but generous family that was being targeted by a local group of bandidos. While the change of scenery was always good from time to time, he felt joy within him as they returned home. "Home again, Bernardo," he beamed, grinning as the mute man joined him and poked his head out of the window also.

Bernardo was just as eager to get home as Diego – he was anxious to check on Tornado. Whilst away in Santa Barbara, Zorro had used another horse in place of his faithful steed. Though he was a horse, Tornado was as much a part of their team and friendship as either Diego, Bernardo, or even Don Alejandro.

Wiping his brow, Bernardo thought of how nice it would be to receive a glass of lemonade upon arriving at Teo Gonzales's posada when the sound of a whip, followed by a cry of pain made his head snap up. He whipped his attention back to Diego to confirm what he had heard wasn't just in his mind. Seeing Diego's eyes fill with fury, he was relieved to know he wasn't going mad, but anxious as to his master's actions. As the coach came to a halt in the town square, both Diego and Bernardo leapt out of the vehicle and were faced with a sudden, horrifying change in their little hometown. A new stockade had been erected just a stone's throw away from the doors of the cuartel, a new whipping post standing out like a sore thumb on the opposite side of the presidio's doors. Off to the left corner of the cuartel, soldiers and the pueblo's carpenter were under Sergeant Garcia's supervision as they slaved away to create a hangman's scaffold. At the moment, however, Diego's attention landed on a stranger who wore his uniform and badges with pride as he flicked his whip at a whimpering peon who dropped a bag of coins before him before scurrying away as fast as he could.

Diego took a furious step when he felt Bernardo's hand clasp onto his shoulder. Looking back he saw that Bernardo shook his head vehemently in warning. Reining back his anger, he gave Bernardo a thankful nod before straightening and fixing his tie. Brushing his hair back into place, he strolled casually up to the soldier, who was now coiling his whip to tie it to his waist. "Perdon, senor, may I ask what the meaning of all this is?"

"The meaning of all this what, caballero?" the military man asked coolly, turning swiftly on his heel to face Diego.

"There's never been any need for such…drastic display of discipline-" Diego started, waving his the objects that were currently garnering wary looks and horrified glances from passing townspeople. His words came to a halt as the officer, a clean-shaven gentleman with sharp grey eyes and a thin, curly moustache on his upper lip quickly drew his sword and pointed it past Diego's face, making Bernardo go cross-eyed in panic as the tip of the blade came to pause just a few inches from his face.

"I find that the use of strict, tangible discipline is what keeps everything running, senor, otherwise everything falls to pieces." Smirking, the officer calmly lowered his arm and slipped the blade into his sheath before running his gloved hand over his slicked midnight hair. "Forgive me, where are my manners? You must be new in Los Angeles." Bowing lowly, he introduced himself: "I am Esteban Ramon, the Commandante of this humble town."

"Commandante?" Diego echoed, his stomach churning in disgust. This was a seasoned swordsman, and from the sound of his thick accent and refined manners, he was most likely from Madrid.

"Yes…who are you, if I may ask?" Ramon asked, raising an eyebrow as he straightened his posture.

As if by a miracle, Sergeant Garcia waddled over and joined Ramon's side, causing the Commandante's eyes to roll as he pressed his lips together to avoid uttering a sound of irritation. "Don Diego! Welcome back! Hello, Little One!" he greeted them jovially. Bernardo kept up the pretense and waggled his fingers back at the sergeant, though his eyes strayed warily at Ramon. "You're back from Santa Barbara so soon?"

"Si, I finished my business there for Father sooner than expected and I couldn't wait to get back. Commandante Ramon and I were just discussing some of the new…architecture here in Los Angeles," Diego responded with a smile, though his tone did not match.

"Don Diego?...as in, Diego de la Vega, son of Don Alejandro?" Ramon asked suddenly, complacently clasping his hands behind his back.

"Oh, si, mi Commandante," Garcia nodded his head vigorously, saluting his superior. "He is a great man, senor, the finest California has to offer, and my dearest friend!"

"Is that so? I didn't think such a refined caballero would want to be associated with the likes of you, Sergeant," Ramon commented casually, removing his glove to check his nails.

Diego's brow furrowed as he saw the tubby soldier bow his head in dismay, prompting him to speak up, "Sergeant Garcia is the finest man in this garrison, Commandant Ramon, and a loyal member of His Majesty's army. I can think of no one better to turn to if I was in peril."

"Then may the saints protect you from such a situation, for I would fear for your safety," Ramon snidely remarked before placing his hand back into the glove. "At any rate, Don Diego, I suppose I should extend the invitation to you, since your father will no doubt be attending. The Alcalde will be hosting-"

"I beg your pardon?" Diego asked, raising an eyebrow. "The Alcalde of what?"

"Why, of Los Angeles… oh, how horrid of me!" Ramon chuckled, tapping his forehead as he mocked his own forgetfulness. "Of course you are unaware… since you have been out of Los Angeles, the Viceroy has resigned and appointed a new Alcalde to Los Angeles, as it is growing in population and in economy slowly but steadily. In addition to myself as Commandante, we have Rafael Quintero as Alcalde. He is currently at the Pérez estate, which he has acquired ownership of since becoming alcalde. He shall be throwing a fiesta tonight and has invited all the dons to join him as he introduces the rest of his family, as well as my little sister. You _will_ join us, won't you?"

Diego forced on a lazy, pleased smile as he bowed his head. "Why, Commandante, I wouldn't miss it for the world. Gracias for the invitation." He noticed how Ramon eyed Bernardo, who blinked unassumingly at him. "Ah, forgive me. This is Bernardo, my manservant. He is both deaf and dumb, but he would die for me."

"Hmm…" Ramon watched as Diego signed to Bernardo and pointed to the Commandante, soon causing Bernardo to bow lowly while gaping dumbly at the official. The servant hardly seemed worth his time, so he sniffed in disgust and waved the man off. "I shall see you tonight, Don Diego. Buenas tardes. Sergeant, keep at your post."

Si, mi Commandante," Sergeant Gonzales saluted him. He waited until Ramon had entered the cuartel again before facing the young don and his servant, gratitude showing in his chubby face. "Gracias, Don Diego. You did not have to defend me in front of the Commandante-"

"Of course I had to," Diego frowned, crossing his arms over his chest in disapproval. "How could I say nothing when my friend is being attacked?"

"Oh, no, Don Diego, I was not attacked! The Commandante just has…eh, very strong words to say," Garcia shrugged weakly. "I am sorry you had to find out this way."

"How long has this new regime been in place, Sergeant?" Diego asked, glancing back at the scaffold.

"Well, the Commandante and Alcalde arrived a week ago, exactly a week after you left for Santa Barbara. Their relatives arrived just yesterday and moved into the Perez estate now that it's prepared."

Diego could scarcely believe the audacity of these people. The Perez estate had belonged to an old and aged don, Juan Perez, who was known to be strict with his finances. Before his passing four years prior, however, he had renovated his home so that it might resemble a grand Spanish home, very much like the one he left behind in Spain in his youth. It was the most he had ever spent of his fortune, and when his home was finally completed, he had the misfortune of passing on. The home had been abandoned and left alone out of respect, for he had bequeathed the rest of his fortune to the church. It was a grand two-story house with a verandah, open courtyard behind the hacienda that was surrounded by a pristine white wall, with its own little chapel, built in memory of the don's wife that had died many years before.

"Well, I'd best be going," Sergeant Garcia said reluctantly, waving to them. "Please excuse me."

Diego glanced at Bernardo as the sergeant departed, noticing how Bernardo shrugged his shoulders as if to ask 'what now?' "Let's go home and freshen up, Bernardo…we'll take a closer look at the situation tonight."

 **~Z~**

The evening brought the song of nightingales and sparrows before the sun went down. It was to their tune that many of the wealthy inhabitants of Los Angeles arrived at the doors of Alcalde Quintero's new home. Many hid their disapproval behind fans or feigned interest with a thin smile as they entered the doors of the lost don. Rafael Quintero, however, cared not what others thought so long as he was recognized as the man in full and total power.

Rafael Quintero was not a man many would consider to be a man of position or gentlemanly grace, with his thinning black hair now peppered with silver, squinting brown eyes and greasy moustache and goatee. He was an extremely portly man, practically rivaling Sergeant Garcia, though if one looked closely, they could see his countenance jiggle as he moved slowly. He was of stark difference to Esteban Ramon, who prided himself on being tall, thin, and in good health, not to mention hygiene. There could not have been a more unlikely pair, and yet, these two parasites depended on one another to secure what each wanted – Quintero received protection and respect from the simpletons he reigned over, whilst Ramon kept his status, salary, and was able to rub elbows with the big wigs.

"Is the scaffold ready yet?" Quintero asked out of the corner of his mouth, faking a smile at a couple that had just arrived.

"It was just completed today," Ramon answered in a low voice, his eyes scanning the perimeter. "We shall be ready for the execution tomorrow."

"Good," Quintero chuckled, his laugh sounding more like a thick gurgle. "This shall establish who is truly in charge now- _oye_! Joaquin! Stop scurrying about like a squirrel!" The fat middle-aged man snapped and shooed the eight-year-old boy that seemed to appear magically at his side. He tsked at the boy and shook his head. "The things I must put up with-"

"The boy is the least of your problems…" Ramon looked up and saw the faces of Don Alejandro and Don Diego de la Vega, trailed by the cheery and clueless Bernardo. "Ah… and here is one of my problems." He straightened and bowed at the de la Vegas did the same to him. "Don Alejandro, Don Diego, welcome. May I introduce Alcalde Rafael Quintero? Rafael, you remember Don Alejandro. This is his son, Don Diego." He did not bother introducing Bernardo – he personally thought nothing of the man, and Quintero thought it was beneath him to even look at a servant unless he was scolding them.

"Ah, si, welcome Senores."

"Alcalde," Alejandro frowned. He had already approached Quintero about lightening the taxes on the poor Indians and peons, and stopping the persecution against Padre Felipe and the church. Quintero dismissed him, of course, and thus Alejandro had instantly grown a fierce dislike for the man. Upon Diego and Bernardo's arrival back home, he had explained what Quintero and Ramon had begun to enforce, including raising the price on Zorro's head in Los Angeles and reprinting and distributing new posters.

"Ah, so your son has returned home," Quintero noted with a weasel-like smile. "Welcome back, senor, a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"The pleasure is all mine," Diego said politely as he put on a convincing smile. "I expect to see some drastic changes in the days to come now that you are here."

"Oh, and you shall- Joaquin!" Quintero bellowed, fuming as he saw the boy climbing up onto a table and hanging from one of the beams that held up several painted pots of dainty flowers. "Get down from there at once you little menace!"

Diego's gaze moved to see the boy, hanging nimbly as though he were some monkey or squirrel, his dark brown eyes flashing contemptuously at Quintero. His black hair flopped over his right eye and framed his youthful face, swaying as he leapt down from his perch and began to approach the man. Diego could not hold back a smile of admiration – this boy clearly showed no sign of respect or fear, unlike the peons and even a few of the dons. As the boy drew closer, a young girl of about twenty years hurried to the boy's side, placing her hand on his shoulder. The boy smiled brightly at her before putting on his mask of indifference towards Quintero and Ramon once more. The young woman held herself erect as she approached them also, her face never betraying her, her eyes observing the men they approached. The moment her eyes locked with Diego's, however, she nearly faltered in her steps.

Diego felt his eyes widen as he looked into the girl's eyes, his breath hitching as he drank in her beauty. She was a vision in pink, her simple dress the color of the sky at dusk as it swayed when she moved. Her cocoa colored eyes were large and framed generously with curled lashes, her lips spreading into a timid smile at him. Her mid-length wavy locks cascaded around her face like a waterfall, concealed by the mantilla she wore over her head and shoulders. She and the boy were dressed far more simply than anyone there, but to Diego, she appeared to be a princess with each graceful step she took.

"Do keep your brother in line, Alma," Quintero grumbled before facing his guests again. Clearing his throat, he waved his hand at the two young people and said, "Don Alejandro, Don Diego, may I introduce my niece and nephew, Alma and Joaquin Quintero. They are under my care since their father passed away recently."

"Welcome to Los Angeles," Alejandro greeted the children cordially.

Both Alma and Joaquin bowed to them, but Joaquin's inquisitive eyes were soon on Bernardo. "What's your name?" he asked the servant.

"This is Bernardo, and you must forgive him for not answering, he is both deaf and mute," Diego explained to the boy, though his eyes strayed back to Alma, who was also looking at Bernardo with compassionate eyes.

"The poor man," she murmured softly.

Ramon sniffed. "He's just another servant-"

"And another human being," she interrupted curtly, casting him a disapproving lookout of the corner of her eye.

"Ah, allow me to introduce Commandante Ramon's sister," Quintero cut in, sensing the tension between the two escalating. "Renée! Do come here a moment."

A woman standing off with another crowd glanced over her bare shoulder for a second before excusing herself and stalking over elegantly to join their side. She was certainly striking, with a blood red dress accented with black lace while her thick raven hair was piled fancily on her head with a fine ebony comb keeping it in place. Her icy blue eyes made Bernardo get shivers, especially as she smiled condescendingly at them. Her thin nose and high brows matched those of Commandante Ramon, which could only mean one thing.

"This is Renee Ramon, sister to our fine Commandante," Quintero said with a flourish of his hand.

"Renee, this is Don Alejandro and Don Diego de la Vega," Ramon said coolly.

"A pleasure, senores," she said in her smooth, sultry voice as she curtsied lowly to them. She offered her hand and waited for both Alejandro and Diego to kiss it, sending a sideways smirk to Alma, who remained silent with her eyes cast down, her lips pressed tightly. "It's so lovely to have such esteemed guests over. I always tell my big brother that there is no need to let work get in the way of festivities, even with an execution on the way-"

"Execution?" Diego asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah, you must have not received the notice yet," Quintero noted. "I've had the soldiers go throughout the countryside to hand out flyers notifying the dons and townspeople alike that tomorrow morning there shall be an execution."

"Whatever for?" Alma spoke up, looking just as shocked and mortified as Diego.

Renée sent her a scalding look, but Commandante Ramon answered her inquiry as if she had asked what the weather would be tomorrow. "There are a handful of peons that did not pay the required tax on their lands-"

"Didn't or couldn't?" little Joaquin sneered, causing Alma to stand in front of him as Ramon took a menacing step towards him.

Ramon's fury vanished as he looked at Alma and smirked. "At any rate, the people must recognize that there is new management in Los Angeles, and they must answer for not facing their responsibilities. Not even this Zorro character will dare to face us."

"Are you so certain?" Alejandro asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Quite," Ramon smiled, his eyes never leaving Alma.

The girl averted his eyes and fought back a grimace as he continued to look at her, embarrassed that he would look at her so in front of their guests. Joaquin fidgeted behind her, his face twisting in anger though he bit his tongue and did not speak, glancing up at his elder sister in worry. Diego took note of all of these things and remained silent, though he, too, felt very much like Joaquin. These two men meant business and were already taking it out on his home and people… so whether they liked it or not, Zorro would most certainly make an appearance and awaken them from their power-induced fantasy.


	2. To Know You Better

_Chapter Two:_ To Know You Better

Diego could no longer stand the way Ramon looked at Alma. When the solider began to take a step towards her, he stepped forth and smiled charmingly. "May I tempt you for a dance?"

"How thoughtful," Renee said coyly, batting her eyelashes, only to narrow her eyes when Diego took Alma's hand and kissed it.

"Me, senor?" she asked, stunned that he was paying her any mind.

"Unless I have offended you in some way-" Diego began.

"No, of course not!" she shook her head, her eyes shining brightly as she beamed at him, blush filling her cheeks. Joaquin grinned at this and slipped away without a word, vanishing into the crowd. Alma looped her arm with Diego's when he offered it and allowed him to escort her away towards the back where guests gathered to dance in the courtyard.

Placing one hand on her lower back, he gripped her hand with his free one and began to lead her in time to the music as the band played. He spun her gently and felt his heart skip a beat as she giggled in delight. "Now that we're alone, I'd like to informally introduce myself. Please call me Diego."

"Then you must call me Alma," she winked playfully. "Gracias for saving me."

"I take it you don't care for the Commandante's advances?" he asked innocently, secretly relieved. He could sense there was something dark about Ramon, and he couldn't bear to imagine having him or his sister living in the same vicinity, let alone house, as Alma and her impulsive little brother. His suspicions were reaffirmed when he saw her shake her head, her eyes downcast.

"I don't believe he and I are meant to be together, but he insists otherwise," she answered honestly.

"Surely your uncle would stop such advances…?" He frowned as she shook her head again, his disgust for both men growing by the minute.

"Let's not talk about that," she said suddenly, putting on a kind smile. "I am new to this city and I want to know all about it and its inhabitants. Tell me about yourself, Don D-"

"Just Diego," he corrected her with a wink.

She laughed as he spun her again, her mantilla slipping from her head to display her wavy chocolate hair flowing around her face. "Very well, _Diego._ Tell me about yourself."

"Ah…I'm afraid there's not much to tell. I'm an open book," he said with a smile. "I enjoy poetry and playing my guitar, horseback riding in the mornings, visiting Sergeant Garcia for an occasional drink and a good laugh…"

"Sergeant Garcia…that full-figured gentleman at the presidio who works with a small corporal and boasts of catching this outlaw, Zorro?" she asked, her eyes sparkling as she remembered the figure.

"The very same."

"He spoke highly of you when Joaquin and I arrived yesterday. He's such a dear heart!"

"He certainly grows on you," Diego chuckled. "Tell me about yourself. You must be more interesting than someone like me."

"I doubt that," she blushed, ducking her head for a moment as she gained the courage to be truthful. "I'm afraid I'm awful at embroidery, but I do make rather decent tamales."

"I shall have to try them," he grinned. "Tell me more."

"Well…my uncle frowns upon it, but I love reading. Mostly historic volumes, and occasionally I'll have to pull out an atlas…and of course, romantic novels." She blushed in embarrassment but he merely winked once more at her. "I do love riding my mare, Corazon, and sketching."

"Sketching, eh?" he asked. "Sketching what? Portraits, landscapes?"

"A little bit of everything. It's not very good, but I find it distracts me from…certain topics." Her voice had faded towards the end of that sentence and he could see the hurt in her eyes, but she quickly masked it and added on, "I also enjoy spending time with my brother."

"Joaquin, is it?" he asked.

"Si. He likes to play bandits and Indians and often asks me to participate in a swordfight or two."

"Is that so?" he pondered, raising an eyebrow in amusement. "Are you any good?"

She tilted her head and pursed her lips, her eyes looking off in another direction as she toyed with him, earning a laugh from the young don. "Well, I can't say I'm a master at it…" Lowering her voice, she neared her head to his and whispered, "But I do enjoy it. Sometimes…I…oh, never mind."

"I won't tell," he promised in a soft voice, his eyes looking at her tenderly as he pulled her closer to him.

Pressing her lips together tightly, she considered her thoughts before finally whispering in his ear, an action that made him shiver in delight. "I wish I were a boy at times, just so that I might have the chance to try my hand at it."

He chuckled as she pulled away and grinned. "I'm sure you would be a fine swordsman. I'm afraid I don't have much interest in it. I believe in avoiding violence as much as possible."

"That's very diplomatic of you," she noted.

He shrugged. "Oh, I suppose so. Some say it's cowardly-"

"Courage is not determined by one's skill with a sword," Alma interrupted him, her words like a siren's call to him. Looking into her eyes once more, he stopped dancing and merely held her, surprised to feel her quivering in his arms.

"Are you cold?" he asked, ready to lead her back into the hacienda.

"No…no, I'm all right," she said, suddenly flustered.

A heartfelt smile grew on his lips as he realized why she was acting that way. He was pleasantly surprised – no woman had ever reacted to him this way as Diego de la Vega. Zorro was always the one who elicited these types of responses from women, but here was a newcomer who seemed utterly enchanted by him…and though he didn't want to admit it, he was rather smitten with her as well.

"Why did you stop dancing?"

The youthful voice made the couple blink in surprise before glancing down to see little Joaquin Quintero standing boldly before them. "Ah, here's the man of the house," Diego grinned, kneeling down so that he might give the boy a better advantage to see eye-to-eye. "It is honor to meet you, senor."

"Gracias, senor," Joaquin answered politely, bowing his head to him. "Your father is a very brave man. He's very adamant about not letting the execution happen."

"I can imagine," Diego grimaced, already thinking of what his father could possibly be saying to Quintero at the moment. He already knew nothing anyone could say would deter the man from his opinion. "I couldn't help but notice how you reacted with Commandante Ramon-"

"Bah!" the boy scoffed, almost making Diego laugh. The child acted rather mature for his age, and it was amusing to see his reactions. "I wish he would disappear."

"You mean like this?" Diego asked, pulling a coin out of his coat, displaying it to the boy and then with a flick of his fingers, made the coin vanish before his eyes.

"Oh!" the child gasped, grinning as Diego procured the coin by tugging it out of the boy's ear. "Excelente!" Joaquin cried, clapping his hands.

Alma laughed as Diego arose and bowed to the boy. "I had no idea you were a magician."

"Oh, I'm not. I learned that trick from Bernardo. He's much better than I," Diego chuckled, tossing the coin to Joaquin. "He learned from a gypsy when we were in Spain a few years ago."

"I should like to learn magic," Joaquin confessed. "You must come and visit with Bernardo! Bernardo can teach me tricks and you can tell us about Spain! We have never left San Juan Capistrano until…well, when Papa was murdered-"

"Joaquin, please," Alma stopped him, her voice stern, her eyes filled with sadness.

Diego could see the hurt in their faces and bowed to them. "I'm sorry," he said sympathetically. "…if you wish it, why don't we all go for a morning ride and stop for breakfast at my hacienda tomorrow?" he offered, hoping to make light of the situation. Still, the boys' words echoed in his mind…his father had been murdered, and Quintero had mentioned nothing of this when they were introduced. He could have avoided the topic out of respect, but there was something weasel-like about this alcalde, and he had a feeling this was no coincidence.

"That would be lovely, gracias!" Alma beamed, brightening at the news.

"Si, gracias!" Joaquin grinned. "You can tell us about Zorro, too! We've heard a lot about him. Is he really eight feet tall and silent as a shadow?"

Diego burst out laughing, shaking his head in disbelief at the things people said about his alter ego. "Well…I wouldn't know. I've never met him face to face, but I do know he is very cunning. He hasn't been caught yet, and I don't believe he will be any time soon."

Joaquin's eyes glittered in fascination at the thought of such a daring figure prowling the night, fighting injustice. Alma's own face was filled with curiosity but she didn't day a word as to her opinion on the matter. Her expression fell as she realized Renée was making their way towards them. "Is something the matter?" she asked kindly.

"Your father wishes for you to join him, Don Diego," Renée informed him curtly. "He says you're leaving."

Diego could imagine why that would be the case. Still, seeing the contemptuous glance aimed at the siblings by Renée, he felt guilty in leaving. Taking Alma's hand, he kissed it reverently and shook Joaquin's little hand. "Until tomorrow," he winked, bowing to Renée before taking his leave.

Renée waited until he was out of earshot before spinning around to snap at the two. "You think you can steal away this foppish fool from me?"

"He's not a foppish fool!" both Alma and Joaquin argued simultaneously. "And I most certainly had no intentions of stealing him away," Alma informed her firmly. "He came to me, remember?"

"Hmph," she sniffed arrogantly. "That's precisely why he's a fool. Pretending to be gallant for such a plain, naïve girl like yourself… it's downright preposterous." Turning on her heel, she strolled off, a wickedly gleeful smile on her face as she could sense the shame and hurt that emancipated from Alma. She was violently jerked out of her thoughts as she felt a gloved hand grasp her arm and tug her aside. "Esteban!" she hissed at her elder brother. "Unhand me! I'm not some criminal-"

"I could kill that fool!" Esteban growled, ignoring her completely. When his sister gave him a perplexed look, he whispered, "Rafael says he thinks de la Vega fancies Alma and hopes to marry her off to the dandy."

"That makes sense. He would earn part of the de la Vega fortune if their households were joined," she shrugged, seeing no problem in sending the girl off for business.

"She's _mine_ ," Ramon hissed, making her roll her eyes. She really couldn't see what any man would find appealing about that simpering soot but ever since her brother had made a partnership with Quintero, he has expressed his interest in her profusely, though Alma would have none of it.

Renee pursed her lips in thought before tilting her head slyly towards her brother, a smirk growing on her lips. "Let them marry." She held up her forefinger as he opened his mouth in protest. "For once in your life, listen to me," she glared. "Let that stupid caballero marry Alma, let Quintero earn the fortune…and then set a little 'accident' for Don Diego and his father...and then you can marry that little strumpet." She pulled back and raised an impish eyebrow at him. "It's not as if you've never set up little incidents like that before."

His brows furrowed together as he mulled what she had said, a half smile forming on his lips. "Truly, you are my equal, Renee."

"So nice of you to remember," she winked, slinking away without a second glance.

Rolling his eyes, Ramon stalked off in the opposite direction, pulling out his pocket watch as he did so. He would need to head back to town...tonight he would rest in the cuartel, just in case anything should happen with the prisoners.

 **~Z~**

In the light of the full moon, Zorro urged Tornado on through the darkness that encased them on the road to Los Angeles. The moment he had returned home from Quintero's fiesta, he excused himself so that he might transform from Diego into Zorro. Both Bernardo and Alejandro warned him to be careful. These men were dangerous and ambitious, so there was no telling what they might try to pull. As he came closer to the pueblo, he could see figures standing at attention around the perimeter of the little city, some of them moving to and fro as they brought supplies from the posada to the cuartel. Tugging on the reins, Zorro slipped off of his trusted steed and whispered, "Go, amigo, and hide until I call for you."

The midnight hide of Tornado easily blended with the inky blackness around them and he was soon out of sight. Stalking forth, Zorro could make out the sight of a few soldiers reposting posters with his own face painted on it, the words "Wanted: El bandido ZORRO for committing crimes in the name of justice. 500 pesos for his Capture - Dead or Alive" displayed on the sheets. "Only 500, eh?" he chuckled. Slinking towards the nearest building, an old shed that the tanner used to store his wares, Zorro climbed to the roof using his whip, never altering the attention of the guard posted at the front of the little shack. Nimbly, he hopped and climbed on the rooftops, lying on his belly when necessary to avoid getting caught. It took the greater part of fifteen minutes to arrival at the wall of the cuartel, and he had to time himself so that he might hop onto the wall's ledge as so not to be seen, but he figured it was best to be cautious than to hurry himself. Lowering himself carefully onto the pile of water barrels placed in that corner, he carefully climbed down, ducking behind one of the thick barrels as he heard someone walking back.

"Can you believe it, Reyes? Our rations are cut, we must stand guard all night, and we were not allow a break at the posada all day!" Sergeant Garcia's familiar voice whined as he slumped past the barrels, sounding absolutely miserable.

"Si, Sergeant…it reminds me of when Monastario was the commandante," Corporal Reyes answered in his monotone voice.

"At least Monastario let us go to the posada," Garcia grumbled. He sighed before whispering, "Those poor souls. Without Ramon's permission, they will not be able to leave anywhere, except the gallows in the morning…they will need a miracle to save them." Zorro peeked over his hiding place to see Garcia casting a sympathetic look at the four peons caged in a cell, all of them on their knees and praying. Shaking his head, Garcia led Reyes away and began to reminisce about the wine Teo Gonzales would serve in the tavern. As his voice began to dwindle, Zorro took this opportunity to sneak toward the Commandante's office. Sneaking towards the door, he noticed how the inside was dark. Trying the handle, he found it locked. Pulling a nail from the pouch on his belt, he tinkered with the lock, constantly checking over his shoulder, before entering and shutting the door softly behind him.

Standing erect at last, he glanced around the room, frowning as he did not see the money chest that would contain the taxes and important documents. Slipping past the desk, he decided to try the bedroom door. He was stunned to find it was cracked open, a single candle's weak light barely lighting the corner of the simple quarters. There on the bed was Ramon, snoring softly under the covers while the money chest rested on a chest of drawers. Seeing the ring of keys at the foot of Ramon's bed, Zorro tiptoed over and bit his tongue as he carefully lifted the iron ring. The ring contained three keys, all of them looking nearly identical. With painstaking caution, he tried each key in the lock until the last one was accepted. Turning the tool slowly, he felt his heart jump when the lock clicked open. Glancing back, he held back a breath of relief when he saw that Ramon had not stirred. Lifting the lid, Zorro grinned as he saw the large bags that had been confiscated from the poor. He moved one hand to grab them when he stopped, noticing how Ramon's uniform was laid out on the lonesome chair in the room. Garcia's words echoed in his mind as he impishly grinned and stepped forth, only to glance once more at Ramon. Again, caution remained predominant, despite his jestful nature. "…better safe than sorry," he whispered to himself, pulling out a handkerchief from his glove before stalking over towards the slumbering superior.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you to JuliaBC for reading and reviewing :) Hope you enjoyed!


	3. Escapes and Escapades

_Chapter Three:_ Escapes and Escapades

Sergeant Garcia and Corporal Reyes glanced back at the prisoners for yet another time before gulping as they set their sights on the gallows' beam that peeked just over the garrison's wall. Looking to one another, they both gripped their neck tenderly, sickened by the thought of these poor men facing death for the inability to pay taxes.

"Where's the Commandante?" Corporal Reyes asked, his eyes still trained on the deathly structure.

"In his quarters, baboso, resting for tomorrow's execution," Garcia grumbled, jealous of his superior. While his leader slept comfortably without a care in the world, he had posted everyone else at attention, on their feet all through the night.

"You sure?" Reyes asked, turning his head to squint at the Commandante's office.

"Of _course_ I am sure," Garcia groaned, exasperated.

Pointing his finger at the office door, which now swung open, he asked, "Then what's he doing wide awake?"

Garcia gasped and straightened his posture – he had already been insulted several times for his big belly being the reason he could not stand at attention correctly. While the Commandante had not lit any of the candles, he stood dressed fully in his uniform, his sombrero pulled low over his face. "Commandante Ramon!" he saluted at once, earning the other officers' attention so that they might also salute immediately.

"How are the prisoners?" he snapped at them, clasping his hands behind his back and standing at attention most menacingly.

"Oh, they are here," Garcia assured him with a weak smile, grimacing as he saw the Commandante shut the door after him and stride to the cage, uncoiling the whip around his belt. "Eh, Commandante-?"

"Release them at once," he ordered, pointing an accusing finger at the guard holding the key ring, who trembled at the sound of his bellowing voice. He stalked over to the barred door and ordered for the men to have their hands tied and linked as if in a chain gang before taking the rope and leading them to the gates of the cuartel.

"Commandante!" Garcia protested, running to his superior's side. "The hanging is not until tomorrow-"

"That does not excuse them from receiving one last reminder of who is in charge before they leave this earth," snapped Ramon, who still kept his hat low over his brow despite the dark of night. He cracked his whip at the dirt floor, making Garcia leap back in fright. "Unless you plan on joining them, I suggest you move aside," he added coolly, making Garcia hop away in fear, though he felt guilty as he watched the peons be taken away. The sergeant bowed his head in pity only to have it snap up when Ramon shouted his name again.

"Si, mi Commandante?" he gasped, running out to the front of the presidio as quickly as his chubby legs could carry him.

"I want these men out of my sight, they'll get in the way while I whip these men into obedience and I don't need any simpering fool to try and stop me or show pity," Ramon informed him.

Garcia blinked, scratching his cheek in confusion. "But, where shall I take them? You placed them here to guard the scaffold-"

"Who will toy with the scaffold now that it's completed? And don't you dare mention that infernal outlaw's name," he snarled. "What do I care where you take the men? Go to the posada for all I care, just leave me to do my business!"

The mention of the posada had many men perk in interest; Garcia's own eyes grew large as he realized what they meant for him. "Si, senor! Lancers, to the posada!" he ordered firmly, waiting until the men had finished running over eagerly before he joined them himself.

The peons watched in terror and disgust as the soldiers abandoned their posts, leaving them with the cruel official. "Now what?" frowned one of the innocent men, watching with suspicion as Ramon appeared to peer over his shoulder and look around cautiously before approaching them. "You are a dishonorable coward and thief, Ramon-"

The whip cracked over their heads twice, making them all fall to their feet and cover their faces as best as they could. They could hear him approaching them, causing them to close they eyes and expect the worse…when he knelt down and raised his hat, however , they found themselves gawking at the mischievous face of the masked outlaw, Zorro. Placing one finger to his lips, he looked over his shoulder again and pulled out his sword, cutting the ropes off the first man before handing the weapon over to the peon. "Cut the others free, then run. I need to keep up the pretense," Zorro whispered, rising once again and cracking the whip several feet away in the opposite direction, aiming his weapon at the scaffold. The men watched as he snapped and flicked the whip, marring the wood with his strength and efficiency. Once the last man was freed of his bonds, the lead peon came forth and timidly tapped Zorro's shoulder, giving him the sword back. Zorro paused from his efforts and accepted the blade.

"Zorro…you sounded just like the Commandante…and the uniform-!" the peon began.

"I have practiced imitating others' voices for some time now. As for the uniform…well, I shall return it shortly," he winked. "Now go, before anyone sees you! Hide in the hills and do what you must, but do not let Ramon or his men catch you. I will do all in power to stop him."

"Gracias," the peon murmured, the others nodding and whispering their gratitude before completing the bandit's orders and disappearing into the night. Zorro took this opportunity to recoil his whip and run back into the abandoned cuartel, hurrying over to the water barrels where the tool box had been placed recently since the completion of the gallows. Grasping the hammer, he ran back outside, checking to make sure the coast was clear before checking the foundation of the beam. Biting the inside of his cheek, he used the curved back of the hammer to pry the nails loose before testing the beam. It moaned under his touch, making him nod in satisfaction. Quickly, he reentered the cuartel and returned the tool before strolling back into the Commandante's quarters. Walking into the room, he saw that Ramon was still unconscious, bound and gagged in his own bed. He had put up quite a fight when Zorro had awaked him from his slumber, only to fall back asleep when his head met the hilt of Zorro's blade. Removing the Commandante's pristine navy blue uniform, he dressed himself once again in his black garbs before returning his attention to the tax chest. Taking three sacks of the money placed to the side, money he had seen were registered as new 'taxes' for 'the army's supplies', he tied them securely to his belt, planning to put them in Tornado's saddlebag before he dropped by the mission to give the money to Padre Felipe for redistribution.

As he shut the box, he heard a groan from the other side of the room. Grinning impishly, he faced Ramon and swaggered over. "Ah, so you're awake," he chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. "Did you have a pleasant nap?" He merely laughed as Ramon grunted into the rag that gagged him. "Perhaps you will think twice before punishing those that cannot afford to pay those horrendous taxes," Zorro offered. "However, I am certain this will not be our last meeting. Until next time, Commandante." Withdrawing his sword from its scabbard, he quickly cut a "Z" into the Commandante's long johns, biting back a laugh as the man's eyes seemed to bulge from the anger he felt. Giving him a mocking bow, he exited the room in a hurry, knowing that if Ramon did not wiggle himself free, Garcia and the others may return to see what had happened. Leaving the private quarters and shutting the door, he slunk across the cuartel's expanse only to hop into the shadows by the wearer barrels once more.

Garcia's voice rang in the air, and the stomping of the soldiers feet alerted Zorro that the later of his predictions had come true. Moving swiftly, he climbed up the barrel tower and lay flat on the edge of the wall, waiting for the soldiers to reenter the cartel before he dared to thrust out his whip and swing over to the nearest building's rooftop. Already, he could hear the shouts of shock and panic as the men saw that the peons were missing. Soon Ramon would be released, and then he would be in for a treat. Slipping down beside the posada, he scurried off towards the edge of the little, sleepy town and whistled. Within moments, Tornado galloped towards him, just as the soldiers ran out of the building with an infuriated Ramon in the lead.

"KILL HIM!" he shouted, his teeth bared in a vicious snarl.

Leaping into the saddle, Zorro waved his whip in the air and caught the tip of one of the lancers' rifles. With a fierce tug, he yanked the weapon aside so that the solider fired just a foot away from where Ramon was standing. With the men startled from the action, he laughed and saluted them before riding away, enjoying the sounds of Ramon's utter rage at being defeat. _"You'd best get used to the feeling, my friend. This will be happening quite a bit from now on."_

 **~Z~**

The following morning, Diego rode out on his steed, Relampago, towards the Quintero hacienda. He greeted Renée cordially when she came to the door and beamed as Alma and Joaquin exited, dressed in their riding suits. "Buenos dias! I hope you are still up for a morning ride?"

"Of course we are!" Joaquin declared, placing his fists on his hips as he grinned at Diego. "And we are starving! You promised breakfast-"

"Joaquin, let's go on our ride first," Alma said calmly, sending him a sharp look with her eyes. Lifting her head, she calmly explained to Renée, "Don Diego invited us out this morning. Please tell Uncle that we'll be back later today."

Renée said nothing to them, only casting them a skeptical look before excusing herself and reentering the grand house.

"She seems like she's in a good mood," Diego commented as Alma and Joaquin's horses were brought out by two Indian servants.

"Don't mind her, she's always like that," Joaquin rolled his eyes as he mounted his horse with great ease.

Alma glanced back at the house, her eyes full of concern as she looked to her little brother. Facing Diego, she forced on a smile and said, "Perhaps we can talk more later. I'm anxious to let Corazon release some energy."

"All right," Diego agreed, certain he would get her to talk sooner or later. "Let's be off!"

Leading the way, Diego guided them down the path until they arrived to his hacienda. He rode past it and urged his horse off the road, leading them into a vast expanse of wild grasses and dry shrubs that encased the land. He began to speed up the pace as Joaquina and Alma urged their horses to move faster, the three of them laughing at they shared an early morning race. The sun's rays spread gloriously through the air as they rode their frisky steeds through the Californian scenery, coming to a halt as they arrived at a small pond surrounded by crooked trees.

"Well," Diego sighed, dismounting simultaneously as his two guests. "That was most certainly refreshing. I haven't done anything like this with friends in a while." He bounded over and assisted Alma in finding her footing, amazed at how lovely she looked in dawn's soft light, her hair loosened from its bun from the wild ride, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glistening.

"Gracias, Diego. I do hope we can do this more often," she smiled.

"Diego, did you hear about el Zorro?!" Joaquin asked excitedly, rushing to their sides.

"No… what happened?" Diego asked innocently, offering his arm to Alma before leading the siblings down the little slope towards the pond's edge for a moment of rest.

"Uncle Rafael and Ramon were furious this morning – they say he got the peons to escape, and that he impersonated Ramon!" Joaquin laughed, plopping down by the water's edge before tugging his boots and socks off so that he might dip his feet in the water. "He's incredible!"

"I suppose he is," Diego chuckled, shaking his head. Glancing at Alma, he cocked his head and asked, "What do you make of this outlaw?"

She shrugged before looking into his eyes. "I haven't met him so I can't judge his character. As for his actions, though they are unorthodox and dangerous, I can see that he cares for all kinds of people and will do what he must to protect them all. He must be very brave to dare attempt such feats… and I will give him credit for putting Ramon in his place," she added softly, pressing her lips together tightly as she failed to hide an amused smile.

"Ah… the polite senorita has a mischievous side to her," Diego grinned impishly, raising an eyebrow as he pointed at her. She playfully smacked his hand away, prompting him to reach for her. When she tried to run away, he wrapped his arms around her, keeping her in a tight embrace. Joaquin watched, his heart swelling with hope, as they laughed and fought one another, eventually ending up tumbling and rolling on the soft grass until they came to a halt. Alma lay on the ground, fighting her giggles as Diego kept his arms on either side of her to keep himself propped up, also smiling like a fool. The two slowly stopped laughing and stared into each other's eyes, Diego's head timidly moving towards hers.

"You haven't laughed like that for a long time, Alma," Joaquin noted softly, startling the couple. "Not since Papa died."

The spell between the two appeared to be broken. Diego cleared his throat and helped her up, taking in every detail of her heartbroken face. "…Joaquin mentioned that your father was murdered… is that true?" He felt his stomach twist in agony as she looked away, almost as if she were fighting with herself as she squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pried-"

"It's true," Alma admitted at last, looking back at him with tears in her eyes. "He was killed about a three months ago… there were men in masks what attacked the house and broke in… they kept us locked in our rooms. By the time we were able to break out and ran downstairs…" She stopped herself, a son caught in her throat. "...ever since then, Uncle Rafael has taken us in."

"I'm so sorry," Diego apologized softly. He moved his hand to wipe away a tear that had began to slide down her cheek but hesitated when she looked up at him. Asking with his eyes, he completed his task, only to accept her in his embrace. Murmuring words of consolation, he held her close, gentle in his touch as she wept on his shoulder. Joaquin said nothing, though a wistful smile appeared on his face. It had pained him to see his sister suffer… at least now, this caballero was able to be that shoulder to cry on for her, quite literally.

Alma fought to regain her composure, pulling away and muttering apologies to the gentleman. She blushed profusely as he took both her hands in his and brought them to his face. His lips kissed each one, lingering on her skin as he kept his eyes trained on her, which made her gape in awe at him. The moment he released her hands, she shyly looked away but kept her hands pressed to her bosom.

"…you act as if you've never had an admirer," he noted gently, his suspicion confirmed as she cast her eyes cautiously over to him.

"…none so genteel as you," she admitted.

"All the men who had come to her before were coyotes," Joaquin scoffed, tossing pebbles into the water. "They all wanted something from Papa…and now that we are related to the Alcalde, I'll bet no one will want anything to do with us."

"Why do you say that?" Diego asked, letting his attention stray to the boy.

Joaquin got himself onto his feet and brushed the dirt off of his pants. "Our uncle is trying to make everyone's life miserable so that he will be recognized at the leader here. Who will want to speak to his niece and nephew?"

"Uncle Rafael is not the only one to blame," Alma added, her brows furrowing as she remembered a certain Commandante. "Ramon enforces the orders Uncle gives, so while he does the dirty work, Uncle exerts his power without actually having to face the people he causes harm to. He treats them as though they are animals, or worse – as though they don't really exist."

"It's all for gold, of course," Joaquin told them quite casually.

"Oh, Joaquin," Alma sighed, shaking her head. "There's no gold-"

"But I heard both of them talking about getting gold in Los Angeles!" he insisted.

Diego's interest was immediately caught, curiosity reeling him in as he tapped his chin in feigned disinterest. "Just how did you hear about this, Joaquin?"

"I found a secret passage that leads from the stables and the chapel to the inside of the house, just behind my uncle's study," Joaquin explained with an excited grin. "It's the most obvious place to find the entrance – it's hidden in a pillar covered in roses between the two places and there's a switch on the base of the pillar, a little button."

"Joaquin!" Alma gasped, frowning at her brother. "I can't believe you would do such a thing…especially without me!"

Diego bit back a laugh at this. "Pray tell, what did you hear them say?"

"Only that there was gold somewhere here and it would make them both rich. They were arguing about the whereabouts mostly, and I heard them scribble the information into a book. I don't which it is or where, but that information is hiding somewhere, and it could get us all into a lot of trouble."

"Well, don't worry Joaquin. I'm sure things will work themselves out-" Diego began, only to blink in surprise as the boy pulled an envelope from his jacket and give it to de la Vega. "What's this?"

"It's a note to Zorro!" Joaquin explained brightly. "It explains everything we talked about with the gold and the secret passage. If Zorro could come and get the book with uncle's notes-"

"Joaquin, just how would Diego find Zorro?" Alma shook her head at the boy, her lips twisting in disbelief at his idea. "Besides, Diego said so himself yesterday that he and Zorro have never met face to face-"

"That is true," Diego nodded, placing one hand on his hip while the other remained aloft, pointing one finger skyward as he gave Joaquin a sly wink. "But you know, I think I know someone who might be able to get this to Zorro. Please don't ask me who, it's most secretive," he said, holding his palm out when the boy began to open his mouth. "But you can certainly trust me to deliver this message."

"Gracias!" Joaquin beamed, handing the letter over.

Alma gave them both skeptical looks, and just as she was beginning to wonder if Diego was possibly mocking them or planned to misuse that information, she watched as Joaquin picked up a stick and began to poke at Diego. Diego in turn grabbed another fallen stick and began to prod back, never advancing and letter Joaquin rule the game. The two laughed and ran about, chasing each other in mirth until Diego grabbed the boy and spun him around before collapsing on his back. Alma couldn't stop herself from laughing, gathering her skirts as she approached them.

"You could make a fine swordsman, Diego," Joaquin offered.

Diego waved him away, pretending to gasp for air. "Fighting is vulgar, and most fatiguing. I'd rather discuss problems and find solutions."

"Hmph," Joaquin rolled his eyes.

Rising to his feet, Diego found himself staring into Alma's eyes once more, entranced by the happiness in her eyes. "We should go, Joaquin, and eat breakfast," Alma said, never removing her eyes from Diego's. Letting the boy run ahead, she whispered, "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked quietly.

"For playing with him… accepting his silly idea," she explained.

"It's not at all silly," Diego chuckled. "I plan to get this letter to its intended owner, one way or another." Feeling said envelope tucked safely away within his vest, he reminded himself that he could not read it until he alone at home…then he could certainly find 'Zorro' and let him take a look at the important document's contents.

 **~Z~**

Diego waited all day until he could finally dress in his dark attire for a nighttime visit to the Quintero household. He was anxious to find out all that he could, for the sake of all California as well as the siblings that lived in the hacienda. Still, even as he rode out to accomplish his mission, he could remove the smiling faces of Alma and Joaquin from his memory. When his father and Bernardo had joined them at breakfast, they soon became enchanted with Alma's kindness and piano skills whilst Joaquin amused them in his desire to learn all he could about magic tricks. Joaquin, ever the excited and mischievous child, whispered to Diego of his knowledge of Quintero and Ramon's dirty secrets.

"Uncle is extremely superstitious, he wears a cross at all times and even keeps garlic Ina drawer by his bedside!" he had confessed, causing Bernardo to bite his to tongue in order to hide his laughter as so not to give himself away to the child. "He's also stolen lots of money from people, at least that's what I've heard when he and Ramon talk. He teases Ramon because he got in trouble in Spain and was banished here a few years ago. Something about an…affair, I think. A duchess was mentioned and a duel, too…I couldn't hear much else at the time without getting caught."

" _Incredible how such a small boy can be so clever and sneaky…I'll have to keep an eye on him,"_ he thought to himself, tugging the reins as he saw the outline of the grand hacienda in the distance. "Move slowly, Tornado," he whispered to his loyal steed, the horse nodding and following his instructions at once. Arriving at the outer wall of the courtyard, he used the wooden stands and tresses for the winding wildflowers as a ladder, nimbly scaling the wall until he peered over to the other side. Seeing that no one was present, he waved his hand to Tornado, signaling him to hiding until he was needed once more.

Slipping down, using his whip to help him land quietly, he slunk through the garden until he came to the enclosed stables, separated from the private chapel by a large pillar. Pulling out the boy's note, he followed the child's incredibly descriptive directions, amused by the little map the boy had added by scribbling it in at the bottom. The door softly clicked open, giving his gloved fingers enough room to pry it open. Peering into the darkness, he saw there were a few steps before the opening gave way to an underground tunnel, dimly lit by only one torch, most likely lit by Joaquin's last visit. Stepping inside, he shut the door after him and took note of the little level within the stone pillar that would serve as his handle to leave when the time came. He silently thanked the boy as he hopped down into the passage, taking the meager torch and following its only trail to the inside of the Quintero hacienda. He did not have to walk long to find the hidden staircase that would lead to the study. Taking quiet steps, he arrived at the final floor, about three stories up from where he had begun in the tunnel. Reaching out, he grasped the handle before him that seemed to be welded into the stone wall. Turning it gently, he found it would only open as far as he turned the iron ring handle. He looked into the room, seeing nothing and held his breath before entering the study.

Joaquin had been right – it was perfect for spying. The door was placed just behind Quintero's massive oak desk, next to the thick curtain of the bay windows that gave way to a small balcony to his right. Shutting the door, he began to study the books on the shelves of the extensive library. "If I were a greasy weasel, where would put my se-?" Zorro stopped upon hearing footsteps approaching the study. Hiding behind the heavy curtain, he held his breath and waited, hearing labored breathing as someone entered the room.

"It must be in here, oh Santa Maria, please…! Oh, praise God," Quintero's raspy voice hung in the air. Zorro used one gloved finger to cautiously move the curtain away, peering past the cloth to see Quintero had opened a private drawer in his desk with a key he kept hidden under the inkwell. There in the drawer was a small, black leather bound book. Placing it lovingly back in its place, Quintero placed everything in its order, making sure to hide the key back in its spot before walking out of the room, running his fingers through his hair. "That Esteban better catch that fox, or I'll show him I'm more than just a walking lard tub." He spat the words out contemptuously, starting to shut the door after him when he shouted suddenly. "Alma! Joaquin! Get to your rooms this instant! You ought to be asleep! Oye!"

Zorro grinned as he listened to the paunch man run off, wheezing all the while. Moving quickly, he removed the inkwell and took the key, unlocking the drawer to reveal the little black book. Flipping through the book, he realized it was a diary. In it, he saw many topics of interest – just as Joaquin said, he constantly mentioned his fears of supernatural forces; Ramon was mentioned as a Captain in the army, only to be exiled upon being charged and found guilty of having an affair with a Duke's wife and dueling him to the death using dirty tricks; there were several accounts of blackmail and extortion on both Quintero and Ramon's parts, with detailed records of their illegal finances. However, the most horrifying thing of all written in the pages was an account that happened about three months prior.

" _I finally gave the order – my brother shall be gone at last. With his murder, I shall acquire his fortune, as well as his two orphaned brats, but no matter…they can be dealt with, and I'm certain I shall find some use for them."_

"Animal," Zorro snarled, his hands curling so much that he nearly crushed the journal. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes as he fought to clear his head. Shutting the book, he tucked it into his boot before taking a sheet of paper and scribbling a note, putting it in place of the book. Locking the drawer and placing the key back in its place, he turned to go back through the secret passage when his mind flashed to unruly Joaquin. "…I'm sure he won't mind if I visit," he smirked, checking to see if the coast was clear before exiting the library.

The stillness of the halls gave him confidence that no one was around. Stealthily, he crept past many doors, wondering which one could belong to the boy. As he reached out to grab the nearest knob and test it, a door just a few feet away opened. Leaping into action, he tested the handle, and when it gave way under his touch, he slid into the room and shut the door quietly. Pressing his palms to the door, he began to lean his head to the wooden frame when a terrified gasp caught his attention. His brows furrowed, he spun around, ready to face whoever it was that had seen him…

"Alma?" he breathed, his eyes widening as he caught sight of her kneeling at her bedside a short distance from him, her brown eyes filled with fear. The moment she opened her mouth to scream, he lunged for her, covering her lips with one hand while the other subdued one of her fists. "Senorita, I'm not here to hurt you!" he insisted in a whisper, mortified when he saw she was crying from fright. Alma's words flickered in the back of his mind as he remembered how she had told him that masked men had entered their house the night their father was killed. "Please, senorita, don't cry. I'm a friend…my name is Zorro," he spoke softly, relief filling him as she recognized the name and blinked back her tears, looking at him with caution, but more out of inquisitiveness than distrust. Slowly, he slid his hand off of her mouth, his heart pounding wildly as he realized how close their faces were. "I did not mean to intrude on you. I was looking for your brother."

"My brother?" she asked, wiping her face clean. "What would you want with…? Oh." Her eyes grew large once again at the sight of Zorro withdrawing her brother's letter from his belt. "But how-?"

"Alma! Alma, open this door, nina!"

Both their heads whipped around at the sound of Renee's tart, furious voice.

"Open this door or I swear I'll break it down!"

* * *

 **A/N:** I do apologize if this dragged on for too long. I wasn't quite satisfied each time I tried to end it. I kept forgetting to mention that Quintero and Ramon's characters are based more or less off the Tyrone Power movie, Renee is just pure evil, Joaquin is inspired from just about any child fanboy/girl that appears in any Zorro adaption (as well as the Antonio Banderas film), and Alma is more or less based on Lolita, also from the Power film. I do have another OC planned to make an appearance in later chapters but I won't spoil it for now.

Since tomorrow it's back to work, I'm not sure when I'll be able to get back to post or write the next chapter; at the most, I'll be back in action by Christmas break *fingers crossed*. I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving, and I'll be looking forward to my next time here online. See you next time!


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